


Once I'm In I Own Your Heart

by stardustedknuckles



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aftercare, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Cock Rings, Collars, Cunnilingus, F/F, Gags, Light Bondage, Porn with Feelings, Spreader Bars, Strap-Ons, Trans Beauregard Lionett, Trans Character, i hate that word but basically yasha gets some too, it's soft you know the drill, look it's been a while since I got kinky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:08:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29447550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles
Summary: Beau and Yasha talked about a few things they might like to try, early on. Now they get to.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 23
Kudos: 134





	Once I'm In I Own Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I think this will get some stuff out of my system for a while. I still can't look directly at episode 125 and I might never. It's been months and I haven't been able to look right at dinner with Trent either. We all cope in different ways - enjoy your smut! I had a blast writing it. Happy Valentine's Day.

They're in the middle of Yasha's bed, Yasha herself infuriatingly fully clothed and Beau's shirt lost in the first five minutes. She can't even remember which one of them got it off, honestly. The air on her tits is cold where Yasha's been busy with her mouth, a nice contrast to the fact that everything else about Beau has been _on fucking fire_ for half an hour at _least_. She hasn't come in her pants since she was a teenager, but the feel of the strap rubbing along her thigh from within Yasha's jeans as she's pinned like this - gods. Only the fact that they're just getting started is giving Beau anything to hold on to at all. It will be so much better if she holds on.

Her chances are dwindling, though, and even though she _can_ technically have more than one orgasm, the first one's the best and they've got plans for it that go way beyond making out on the bed - not that she's opposed to that in theory.

Beau makes a noise of protest as Yasha pauses mid-kiss to sit up and fix her with that maddening smile. Beau's not sure if she's going to explode or bite her, but she's worked up as all hell and Yasha knows it. "Get back here," she croaks. "I'm not finished with you yet."

It's already a pathetic thing to say when she's trapped on her back between Yasha's thighs, but Yasha's actual ass touched her dick when she pulled away so her traitor voice also cracks, face burning pleasantly when Yasha laughs.

"Oh, I think you're awfully close to being finished."

Okay cool. Not just Beau on alert then. A little embarrassing, but nothing major, so Beau raises an eyebrow as best she can.

Yasha reaches inside her sleeve and undoes the snap of the simple, tight leather bracelet Beau had glimpsed earlier and spared only a moment to wonder about. "You're a little too close, in fact," she remarks coolly. "And I don't think we want that." The bracelet uncurls to reveal two extra snaps, the third of which would barely fit around a halfling's wrist.

Kind of an odd demographic sweep there, almost like it's for something -

Whatever's left of Beau's higher thought processes at this point are tragically vaporized in the explosion that comes when two and two crash together - gone, and _absolutely_ forgotten. 

"That's a cock ring," she says faintly. "That's _the_ cock ring. You were wearing - holy goddamn hell." She can see the mark it left behind on Yasha's wrist now - it had looked tight because it was, because it was made for _dicks_ and how is this the hottest part of everything so far?

Yasha grins and rubs the indent as she sits back on Beau's knees and doesn't bother to avoid brushing the bulge her pants over Beau's. "I was hoping you'd appreciate that," she says like she's oblivious to the effect that simple motion is having on Beau. "Consider it a gift. It'll fit you better anyway."

"Fuck," Beau manages. Yasha just nods sagely, flexes her fingers, and then pulls Beau's pants down to the tops of her thighs before it even occurs to her to try and assist in any way. Beau's most of the way to hard because of course she is, but Yasha doesn't give her time to get in her own head about the vulnerability that comes at her need being on such display. She just gets to work moving Beau where she wants her. Beau could fucking kiss her for the way she just _gets it_ \- and she very much plans to do just that. 

Yasha's hands gently tug the warm leather around her, and Beau's instinct is to lift her hips at the touch even though she can't. Yasha glances at her. "Too tight?"

Beau shakes her head and wonders a second later how it's possible to be so aroused by the sound of a button snapping. That metallic click is what makes her feel locked in place, even more than the pressure itself.

"It won't stop you completely," Yasha says, running her fingers lightly over Beau's shaft and _fuck_ \- "but I want you to relax, Beau. This should let you do that without starting from zero when we're ready. Okay?"

Beau can only nod, mouth gone completely dry. But then Yasha leans in to help with that, her mouth hot and wet on Beau's, and she can feel Yasha's strap against her and when her weight settles over Beau, she just feels held. Held in the moment, held down, held safe. Yasha's hands push her arms up the sheets to rest over her head, and then they keep going , trail up to her wrists. The sense of pressure and restraint immediately begins to settle Beau gently back into her bones as her fingers drop loosely open and Yasha's thumbs rub circles on her palms.

She hadn't realized she'd tensed, but Yasha doesn't stop kissing her until she relaxes all over, just like her fingers. Yasha was right - she's almost always right about Beau. She had been too worked up, if not with anxiety then something of its cousin, adrenaline. It's fading now, and Beau's feeling kind of hazy when Yasha finally sits up to look at her, hair falling towards Beau like a veil to brush her cheeks. Yasha's eyes are soft above, lips shiny like she knows her own must be.

"You're so pretty," Beau mumbles, and she's never going to get used to the way such a simple, obvious statement can make Yasha turn so pink. Or how that in turn makes her turn pink. Yasha makes her so soft.

No, Yasha _lets_ her be soft. There's a difference, there's the _option_ , and Beau's pretty sure that difference is how she would describe love if she could mine words from it somehow.

Yasha's hands slide back down Beau's arms, over her ribs and down her sides before she pushes her thumbs against Beau's hipbones and rubs slow circles. "Thank you," she says softly.

Beau doesn't see a reason to move her hands, likes the way she's spread out under Yasha like this and the slow pulse of comfort rippling through her from some sourceless spot behind the base of her ribs. She could just lie here, she thinks, feeling owned and safe and warm, and if Yasha's face is any indicator, she'd be happy to watch over her for as long as she needed.

But there's a pressure in Beau that's not going to let her forget the rest of their plans, and she knows that she's been purposefully brought down to this point for this very reason - so that Yasha can work her up from zero to something bright and incredible.

"Are you ready to keep going?" Beau shivers as Yasha's fingertips drift inwards towards her navel. The heat that has been fading from her isn't gone, just diffuse, and it rises to meet Yasha's fingertips as Beau nods.

"Make me yours," she murmurs, and then she smirks or does her best. "You're not going to tell me your shoelaces are made of rope, are you?"

Yasha chuckles a little, fingers stroking down Beau's trail of dark hair to touch the ring. "Even if they were, I wasn't planning on rope tonight."

"Oh?"

Yasha doesn't reply, just brings her knees in to sit between Beau's and begin tugging her pants the rest of the way down. A little twinge of nerves runs through Beau, but it runs up against the deep feeling of security instilled within her and fades into the background as she bends her knees to assist.

When Yasha has tossed Beau's pants off the bed, she places her hands on Beau's ankles to encourage her to keep her knees up. Anxiety surges in Beau again, this time the kind that comes from knowing what Yasha's looking for - and what she's eventually going to do about it. She doesn't quite feel Yasha's fingers touch the plug, but then Yasha pushes on its base and Beau groans softly at the reminder of its warm presence resting against the inside of her and clenches around it.

"So good for me," Yasha praises softly. "Just like I asked."

"I couldn't stop feeling it," Beau says, because Yasha likes to hear the things that affect Beau almost as much as Beau likes how it makes her feel to say them - and if all goes well tonight, Beau won't be in a position to narrate shortly. "The whole half hour it took me to get here, it was just there, filling me. _Kissing_ you with it in…gods, Yasha."

Her eyes flash and she pushes it gently against Beau before sliding off the side of the bed and reaching under it to pull out a long, flat tub with a lid. Beau rolls on her side with interest and nearly chokes on her spit when the contents are revealed.

"Fuck…Yasha, you're a collector."

Yasha shrugs modestly and trails her fingers over various objects like she doesn't know damn well what she's here for. "I didn't have as much before the first time I fucked you," she offers casually, like that's not a detail that short-circuits Beau immediately. "I've had some time to plan, but a lot of what's in here was just for me." She holds up a leather collar with a ring attached to the front, clearly worn and dented where the buckle was traditionally secured.

It's apparent on closer look that everything in there has been kept as pristine as possible - even Beau can hardly tell what's new and what's not, save for the obviously broken in leather.

She blinks. "You uh. You take real good care of those," she says. "You gonna take care of me like your other toys?"

She means it as a joke, but Yasha's eyes darken and she leans up to stroke along Beau's undercut behind her ear. "Never," she says quietly, and there's a conviction there that startles her. "You are not a toy, Beau. I'm going to treat you so much better than that."

The room goes blurry for a second and shit. Fuck, what is this? Is she about to start crying? That's all she needs, is to lose it here on Yasha's bed with her dick out. She manages a bright smile, possibly too bright. "I'm just saying, I wouldn't mind if you did. I'm honored to be yours." She's relieved to hear her voice come out steady, and a moment later the urge for tears passes.

Yasha searches her face uncertainly and asks, "Is that something you want? To be…depersonalized?"

Her palm is warm and Beau leans in. "I wanna be yours. Whatever you want, however that looks. Like I said, I'd be into it if you used me like a toy. But not if it makes you sad."

"I just worry you aren't used to enough kindness," says Yasha. "I'm willing to do the things you want, but maybe…one thing at a time, yeah?"

Beau's heart feels full, but the tears stay back. "Yeah. Of course." She looks back down at the worn collar, mouth drying again at the thought of Yasha wearing it. "Do you…" Beau's words aren't working quite right and suddenly she can feel the plug in her ass and the sheets on her cock with greater sensitivity. "Do you like…being collared?"

Yasha accepts the shift back into things and relaxes onto her heels again, back into director mode. "Not by anyone else, and not often. I like how the pressure of it feels. But this is what we're playing with tonight." She selects a spreader bar - because there is more than one, Beau can see - and holds it up. There's a leather cuff secured flush to the bar at each end, and an eye hook in the middle. Attached to that by a length of thin, sturdy chain is a new collar, a wide and lustrous brown piece with three brass rings dangling from it and all of the metal involved clinking gently. "If I recall, you are the one who likes being collared by someone else."

It's a teasing statement - Beau's who sent her the links to three different ones she liked the best and let Yasha choose. It doesn’t matter that she knows she'd love anything Yasha bought to claim her. It's perfect.

Also the one she'd sent a photo of only had the one ring in front. This is customized and, she sees now, matches the cuffs Yasha pulls from within and lays beside it.

All Beau can manage is a faint "holy shit."

Yasha looks up at her and smiles, then leans up quickly to kiss Beau on the mouth before pushing the drawer back under and reaching for a long strip of fabric she must have pulled out before Beau rolled over. "You mentioned you liked blindfolds?"

She could have had this all ready before Beau got here, she realizes. It would have been plenty hot to look around Yasha's room and see what she had planned. Showing her, drawing this out and building up Beau's anticipation, it's all part of things.

Beau gathers some of herself together and pushes back a little, playful. "I also said gags."

Yasha snaps her fingers. "Right."

Beau is the furthest thing from prepared to see her pull out a small plastic bag, also from under the bed, and withdraw a brand new gag with a bright red ball in the center. It's almost funny - Yasha is a terrible liar. She had gotten exactly what Beau asked for and then truly forgotten until Beau said, and somehow that simple fact is tearing Beau up with desire.

Yasha looks everything over. "Am I missing anything?"

The leather ring isn't tight enough around Beau to have completely prevented her from going a little softer between Yasha soothing her and the casual conversation, but the sight of Yasha sitting on her knees looking earnestly at her to make sure she has everything she'd asked for causes Beau to twitch against the sheets. Yasha almost certainly notices, but her eyes stay on Beau's.

"No, I uh. Fuck, that's. Fuck." She leans down and Yasha meets her halfway for another kiss, reaching up to touch the side of Beau's face with the blindfold still in her hand. Beau shivers at the feel of the soft fabric on her cheek and groans a little into Yasha's mouth. She keeps her eyes closed when Yasha pulls away, knows what's coming before the blindfold covers her eyes and wraps around itself twice to provide full cover. Yasha's hands are gentle as they tuck in the edges, and she pulls Beau's chin forward so she can kiss her again.

"Give me your hands," she says. Beau can feel her breath on her lips. "I'll lead you where I want you."

"Okay." Yasha takes her hands and Beau swings slowly off the side to rise and walk carefully in the direction she's pulled. With the addition of the blindfold, she's hyperaware of every movement of the plug inside her, the firm comfort of the ring around her. There are nerves, yes, but overwhelmingly Beau feels guided and watched out for. She doesn't know why that's the feeling that seems most connected to her dick, but she's not complaining.

"Here," Yasha says softly. Her hands guide Beau's to rest on her clothed shoulders, and she gently pushes against the inside of one of her ankles. "A little wider, please." It hits Beau by degrees, then - this is happening, she's going to be fastened to this rod and bent over and fucked with the toy in Yasha's pants, the slightly curved blue cock she's only seen photos of but which she knows is patterned with small, smooth bumps. For her, for the express purpose of undoing her even further.

She feels the cool leather wrap around one ankle and brush against the back of the other, and a cord begins to wind tight in her belly as Yasha cinches the first gently shut and moves to the second. "Good?" she asks. Beau's breathing goes ragged when Yasha's hands disappear and she's left to hold on to her shoulders, and she raises up on her toes to feel the unforgiving pressure of the cuffs forcing her feet to stay wide apart.

She can't close her legs. She would never, but she _can't_ and the realization loops a few times as Beau shudders. "Yeah. Gods, yeah."

Yasha's hands reach up to gently encircle her wrists and guide her to keep bending forward until her palms are flat on the ground. "Gods, you're amazing," she murmurs in Beau's ear. "My good girl."

Beau whimpers as she hears the chain slide against the metal bed post Yasha's using for an anchor, lets out a trembling breath as her first wrist is encircled. She's fucking helpless already because it's Yasha, unable and unwilling to move long before the strap is cinched and the choice is taken from her. Except it's _not_ taken from her, it's just that stopping requires another person listening to her and it's Yasha, so the sense of danger doesn't stand a chance. Yasha is safety. The second cuff cinches tight, loosens by a degree a second later without a word from Beau.

Yasha's breath warms her cheek before she presses a kiss to the corner of her mouth, and Beau hears the thin, silvery sound of the other chain as the broad leather of the collar presses to her throat and folds along the back to pull closed. If she'd been able to forget she was bound before, there's no chance in hell the gentle press on her windpipe will let her forget now.

Yasha slips two fingers under the collar, quick and clinical, and then her hands disappear completely.

And that's it. Beauregard Lionett is officially as restrained and helpless as she has ever been, her ass bared and her dick hanging between her legs to stir faintly at the waves of arousal powering through her with every passing second she becomes more aware of her situation.

Beau shifts, tests how much give is in the chains. She can grab the side of the bed, but the collar pulls taut slightly before her head is level with her arms. She's going nowhere. It hits her again: Yasha's going to fuck her like this, bound nearly immobile to the foot of the bed and unable to do a damn thing to stop her. Because she asked nicely, and because Yasha loves her.

She has never been so turned on in her life.

Something hard and round bumps her lips and she startles before she remembers. The gag. Holy _shit_ , she's this turned on already and she hasn't even been gagged yet.

"Do you still want this?" Yasha asks.

Beau nods quickly. "Yeah. I want it. I just forgot, I'm. Fuck, Yasha I'm so _exposed_ like this."

She hopes Yasha doesn't take that for uncertainty, realizes she needn't have worried. "You are absolutely breathtaking," says Yasha. "I'm going to take out your plug and fuck you just like this, and if you haven't come in ten minutes we'll arrange you a new way, alright?"

"And if I do?" Beau's voice is barely sound.

"Then I'll still arrange you in a new way and maybe you can put that beautiful mouth to use on me, how's that?"

Oh shit, she's in _that_ kind of mood. Even if Yasha doesn't want her to make her come, the thought of getting to taste her has Beau squirming uselessly in her chains. "Please," she gasps. "Please, I want -" The gag pushes up against her mouth and forces her tongue back as Yasha shushes her gently and adjusts it behind Beau's head.

"I know," she says softly. "I've got you."

Beau whines, adjusts her tongue. It's all she's able to do.

The trick to Beau being able to handle Yasha's mouth on her is being blindfolded. It's not that Beau doesn't like her dick or the thought of seeing it - or even the thought of Yasha seeing it. It's the way that it telegraphs what she's feeling without her permission. Beau's gotten as far as she has in a lot of ways by virtue of learning early on how to conceal what she's thinking, and honestly? It's a fucking hard habit to undo. Something about Yasha - or anyone, but _especially_ someone she likes as much as Yasha - being able to see how much she can affect Beau triggers those defenses even as it sparks her arousal.

The blindfold cuts out the worst of it, and Yasha had been thoroughly delighted to discover this. It's enough to make Beau's face burn - this, of all things, the wanton affection Yasha has for her dick. She's kind to it the way she's kind to everything complicated about Beau, and her hot mouth laves attention on the aching and sensitive tip of it for a long and heavenly minute before disappearing with a chaste kiss. Beau's left to gasp around the gag and shift her feet uselessly in their restraints. There's an echo chamber of arousal building here, and they've only just started. How is that even possible? There's no way to ask and she doesn't really want to, so she just whines again and trusts Yasha to understand.

"I can't wait to be inside you," Yasha murmurs. "You let me tell you you're mine, but I want you to feel that it's true. Let me show you."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck _fuck_. Beau's mind is a blank; every nerve in her body is a live wire tense with anticipation. There is nothing for her but what Yasha wants, and what Yasha wants is to completely ruin her just like this.

Fuck.

She hears Yasha's pants unzip, feels her fingers light at first on her ass, then digging in slightly to drag down before Yasha braces one hand and gently works the plug out with the other. Beau rocks her hips back at the sensation of loss and chokes on arousal when her collar halts at the end of its chain. The spike of _godsyesohfuck_ that pulses through her at the reminder of being so thoroughly immobilized only heightens when she tries to moan and only succeeds in exhaling little bubbles from the corners of her gag.

She's really here, isn't she? Here at Yasha's mercy because she wants to be more than anything, because she trusts her and she's hers. Beau's already making tiny, broken noises from the back of her throat when she hears the cap of the lubricant snap, then again. Yasha shushes her gently and nudges forward a little so Beau feels the solid weight of the strap, warm from Yasha's pants, holy fuck, bump her aching dick.

Beau jumps at Yasha's touch a moment later, but she only drags a slick finger over her entrance before carefully sliding two inside. The plug has done its job prepping her admirably - Beau groans at the stretch and leans forward to rest her head on the edge of the bed, hands wrapped around the chains holding her to the bedpost just for something to hold onto.

The bedpost, attached to Yasha's heavy bed, which Beau is _chained to_ because she asked and because Yasha wants her like this, wants her vulnerable and primed - not to hurt or take advantage, but to be taken apart by those big, gentle fingers and put back together again. Said large fingers brush the sweet spot inside of Beau and she jumps, and then they reach in with more purpose to touch it again and Beau feels her legs tremble. 

"Okay, okay." Yasha's laughing softly and Beau's face flames, but she knows there's nothing mocking or cruel to be had there and allows the heat to join the growing list of things that are turning her on more than she ever thought possible. The sound of the cap again, then the snap shut, and Beau clenches - she can't fucking help it - at the sound of Yasha slicking herself up, preparing to take her where she stands. Yasha's hand is cool and slippery when it holds Beau's hip, and the breath punches out of her when she feels the tip of Yasha press against her.

"Are you ready?"

_Please please please_ \- Beau whines, pushes her hips back as best she can and savors the sound of Yasha's huff of affection.

"Okay. Gods, you're perfect Beau. So good for me."

She's drooling now, can't even be fucked enough to wonder if Yasha would find that hot or gross (or, for that matter, remember her own feelings on the idea) but she knows the spit's starting to fall - and then it suddenly doesn't matter what she thinks. She can't. There's nothing anymore but the feel of Yasha filling her slowly, torturously and achingly slowly as she murmurs praises and drags her nails up the side of Beau's thighs and gods, gods it's so _much_ , she's so _full_.

And finally they're pressed against each other, Yasha's thighs warm on hers through the fabric of the jeans she's still wearing, fuck, and they stay like this, just…breathing. With Yasha inside her like this, feeling split apart and owned to the core of her and beyond, _just breathing_ is fucking magical.

Beau can feel the hem of Yasha's loose t-shirt grazing the top of her ass, Yasha's hands holding her like this and the resistance of the chains that comfort and restrain. Everything is clips; Beau has all power to cross one wrist over the other and undo herself at any point but she won't. She's going to be so fucking good for Yasha like this - _Yasha_ , who's leaning over Beau's back and rubbing circles on her shoulders with her thumbs, telling her she's so good, so beautiful stretched open for her. She'd been an idiot to think she wanted Yasha to do anything but this, to fill her up and touch her softly and show her with both of their bodies how much she fucking means to Yasha, and she _gets it_ like this. This is a language Beau speaks, and she understands completely. She's Yasha's more than she's anything right now - not her toy, but something infinitely more precious.

It feels like forever that they stay this way, and then slowly, slowly, Yasha starts to move.

* * *

Aroused might technically be the right word for what Yasha feels when she looks down at herself appearing and disappearing inside of Beau, when she hears the little whines and gasps that make it from behind the gag and thinks about what it is to be so completely trusted like this, but Yasha's been aroused before and this is so much _more_. This feels like everything.

She tells Beau as much, not even certain anymore exactly what she's saying and knowing Beau isn't processing it anyway - her lover has gone pliant in a way that contradicts the way her hips still reflexively resist Yasha as she moves, soft puffs of air coming from her nose - and what must it feel like for her right now? To be here and unable to touch or to see or to cry out because this, all of this, is how much Beau wants to be kept from anything that could distract her from Yasha's care. This is Beau unable to think her way out of being loved, unable to focus on anything but the slide of Yasha and the tone of the words she's saying, and the fact that she feels safe enough to be here, to let Yasha facilitate this…not just arousal, but a marrow-deep sense of _purpose_. She will hold the bright flame of Beau's trust close and guard it, however that looks, and it doesn't much matter if that sounds hyperbolic. Beau is a person comprised of extremes, and letting Yasha inside - in every way possible - matters more than she'll ever be able to tell her.

But she will always keep trying to tell her, keeps up a steady stream of words as she rocks in and out of Beau and reaches under her to fumble for a moment with the snap of the leather ring. Beau had explained it to her, that the magic shaping her body also made things work differently here where Yasha palms her gently now as she thrusts. Not a stroke but a rub, her thumb under the base of Beau's shaft and pressing soft circles up against her. Yasha finds herself smiling just a little when Beau chokes and lists forward to rest her head briefly on the edge of the bed.

She is _everything_.

The chains are light enough to make soft tinkling sounds when Beau pulls on them and strong enough to let her, and the sight and the sound and the feel of her warm under Yasha's fingers and trembling slightly against her thighs is so much.

Yasha leans forward to smooth her hands over the muscled expanse covering Beau's ribs and calls her name, softly, then again. She reaches down to wipe the strands of drool away and on the third call, Beau's head lifts as much as it can in acknowledgement.

"Are you close, love?"

Beau's head dips with a groan, whether from Yasha's soft epithet or overwhelm, and manages another nod.

Yasha snaps her hips twice into her before slowing again and watches the dips and swells of shadow and bronzed skin shifting over her back, trying her best to commit it all to memory as she taps lightly at the gag and whispers, "Do you want to be loud for me now?"

Reeling from Yasha's quick thrusts, Beau makes a high-pitched noise in the back of her throat that Yasha can't quite interpret. That's okay. Now she knows Beau is at least cognizant enough to protest if she doesn't want it off.

But Beau stays quiet as Yasha tugs at the buckle and lets the gag drop, and her gasps come through loud and sweet as she takes the moment to swallow before launching into a broken string of babble that jerks the cord of arousal tight within Yasha's belly.

"Please do that again, fuck Yasha _harder_ -" She cuts off into a guttural cry as Yasha complies, and it's not long after that before her body tenses against the chains in an attempt to bow back against them. For a blinding, thrilling moment, Yasha wonders if she'll do it - pull back hard enough to break them - but she just stiffens, knees trembling and breath completely halted for a long few seconds, and that's somehow even better.

Watching her climax, Yasha quickly exhales the activation word on the strap. The base of it kicks up a vibration against her clit that has her tumbling quickly over the edge after Beau with a yelp, and when she crests she can barely think straight enough to remember and spit out the word to turn it back off. Yasha's seeing stars and still buried to the hilt in Beau when she comes back to herself, and in the absence of words and vibrations and ragged sounds of pleasure, the room is quiet but for their tandem breathing and the soft clinking of metal.

Yasha hadn't planned on using the vibrate function, but she's glad she did because it's clear from the sluggish way Beau moves when she gently pulls the strap out of her that she's not only in no position to reciprocate, she also needs Yasha's hands to hold her upright and help her move at all. Yasha unsnaps the chains in a few quick movements and reaches down to twist the dildo from its socket and let it drop away before wrapping an arm across Beau's chest and pulling her upright and flush against her.

Beau lists to the side for a moment, trying to reflexively move her feet in their cuffs, and eventually her weight distributes with Yasha's help and her head lolls back against Yasha's shoulder. The blindfold pushes up and off with ease, and then those blue eyes blink for a moment against the light and find Yasha's face.

"Ho' shit." Beau keeps breathing and tries for more as Yasha uses her sleeve to wipe gently at her chin and the tear smudges that weren't absorbed by the blindfold. "Yash, 's I…good?"

Yasha leans down to nuzzle hard against the side of Beau's head and murmurs, "You were so good, Beau, you were amazing, my good girl." Beau smiles a heady, hazy smile and slumps backward on the sheets when Yasha eases her down and kneels to undo the cuffs on her ankles. She grabs the water bottle off the bed and holds it up, and at Beau's slow nod lifts her head to squeeze some of it in for her and bring her around.

After a couple of mouthfuls, Beau's eyes look a little clearer and she waves off another with a quiet thanks. Yasha sets it aside and settles cross-legged behind Beau to rest her head in her lap and stroke her temple, and one of Beau's shaky hands lifts to grope until Yasha takes it in hers.

This is Yasha's favorite part, she thinks. Every part of fucking Beau is a kind of caretaking and she glories in it, but it's this role - the one that involves being the physical place for Beau to rest with her guard completely gone - that fills her with so much light and affection it aches. Beau's lashes flutter softly as she drifts through her post-orgasm haze, breathing going quiet and even by degrees.

"How are you feeling?" Yasha asks, shifting to stroke the bristles above her ear.

It comes out a sigh. "So good. Safe."

Yasha's vision blurs a little at the soft vulnerability, the way the word slips out from between Beau's lips without a trace of self-consciousness or qualification. She's fully herself like this, trusts Yasha to put her here and keep her while she comes down, and it's a lot to process. Yasha is never more than a memory away from the hurt lurking in her past, from the time when she was the thing other people defended from. Sometimes she still feels like that person, like if she isn't careful she'll break something she'll never be able to take back.

Looking at Beau spread out and loose like this, knowing what she does about how easy it is for Beau to live her life on guard and ready to bolt, that person feels so far away - even farther than it has in the year she's been part of their friend group. It feels less like she's capable of ever being that again.

"Hey, you." Yasha realizes she's zoned out without realizing and pulls her gaze back to find Beau watching her with a knowing fondness. "Stay here with me."

Yasha smiles and leans forward to press her lips gently against Beau's. "I'm here, don't worry."

Beau's smiling when she sits back up a little. "Sure are. Whatcha thinking about up there?"

"You," she says truthfully. "And me."

Beau _hmms_ and wiggles down a little deeper against her lap. "Let me take care of thinking about you. I'm doing it enough for the both of us."

Yasha's never going to get used to the way Beau's simplest statements catch her the hardest, and she drop a kiss to Beau's nose just to watch her scrunch her face in a mockery of embarrassment. "Deal."

Beau blearily holds up a cuffed wrist and considers it, turning her arm languidly so that the metal clinks. "Kinda want to keep 'em on, you know?"

Yasha gently disentangles their fingers to reach for the buckle and pull the tab through, taking her time. "You certainly look amazing in leather, but I'm afraid it's cuffs _or_ shower, and we both know which one you need more."

Beau pulls a face like she's seriously weighing her options and smiles when Yasha chuckles and sets the cuff aside to rub gently at her wrist. The leather is far too soft to have chafed or hurt, but there's a little residual redness up at the top of her wrists where she'd pulled and a slight dampness from sweat. Both of those soothe away under her touch - as good as it felt to see those marks, it's just as good to be the one to remove them.

Beau lifts her head obligingly when Yasha reaches under her neck to loose the collar, and she feels the vibration in her fingertips when Beau gives a happy hum at the contact thereafter.

"You've got to be getting cold," Yasha says after a few minutes. "You ready for me to get the water going?"

Beau's eyes are closed again and they stay that way as she frowns petulantly and pushes more firmly to keep Yasha in place. "They don't have remotes for that yet? They gotta have remotes for that. You should invest."

Yasha laughs softly and tugs at a strand of Beau's undercut. "They do, probably. But this is a rental. Come on, be good and let me up and I'll get in with you."

Beau opens one eye - they both know Yasha was always going to get in with her, but she plays along and grumbles good-naturedly as she lets Yasha coax her into a sitting position with a slight wince as she adjusts. "I'm great, believe me," she says before Yasha can even ask, because she knows Yasha will always ask, even when she's still half-wrapped in oblivion. "I'm going to feel it tomorrow too for sure."

Yasha kisses her temple and says, "Be right back," then slips away to turn the shower on.

* * *

Beau _aches_ , a deep and pleasant throb every bit as potent in its physicality as it is more metaphorically. She rests her weight back on her hands and smiles softy as she watches Yasha fiddling with the water temperature and getting towels ready for them. Fucking towels, look at her. She probably got out a little washcloth just for her too. How in the world did she get this lucky? How is she here in Yasha's room, here in Yasha's life and her own, here to this place where she can accept and even apparently crave to be completely obliterated and stripped of her defenses, just because it's Yasha doing it? How could she even begin to _tell_ her?

She spots Yasha shrugging out of her long sleeves. "Hey," she calls. "That's my job."

Close enough, right?

Her voice is a little hoarse and the shower is on, but Yasha's always listening for her somehow and even if she didn't hear her exact words, she knows what Beau would be saying - not the actual words, the ones under them, the ones that won't come out - and she smiles as she approaches to stand between Beau's knees. Which is quite the view, even clothed.

She rests her arms on Beau's shoulders, scratches lightly between her shoulder blades. "I'm sorry, did you need something?"

Beau slides her hands inside the bottom of Yasha's shirt and grins up at her. "Just you." She's rewarded with a soft smile and a softer blush, and she leans into the brief touch Yasha gives her cheek before pulling her t-shirt over her head. And she has to do it herself, because Beau's not ready to stand up yet. Maybe ever. But she can reach Yasha's bra from here and unhooks it with gusto. Yasha barely has time to wiggle free from it before Beau leans in to take two handfuls of her boobs and suck one of those pink nipples immediately into her mouth.

She's not sure how long Yasha will let her work, so she makes each swipe of her tongue and graze of teeth count. She manages to pull a bruise from Yasha's skin and a groan from her mouth before those big fingers push through her hair to tilt her head back and release her again. Beau gives her a sloppy, unrepentant smile and wipes her mouth on Yasha's stomach before pulling down on her unzipped pants while Yasha murmurs, "Brat" and unties her hair.

The dildo is gone but the harness is still on, and Beau's no artist but she's not _blind_ either - those purple straps against Yasha's starkly pale thighs are some kind of otherworldly composition. She ought to call up the Louvre or something, let them know. It's like, civic duty.

But later. She wants Yasha and her colors all to herself for now, so those rich old art guys can fuck off a while longer. The harness material is supple and works easily free from the buckles and finally, finally Yasha steps out of her pants and back enough for Beau to push her a little further and slide off the bed to drop to her knees in front of her.

She's going for suave but it turns out she's way more wobbly than she'd accounted for. Yasha's hands snatch for her shoulders just before her face can meet the carpet.

"What on earth was that?" She hauls Beau upright, bewildered, and yeah - wow, that was super embarrassing, but Beau's thankfully just as blissed out as she is rubbery and just giggles at the soft exasperation and affection on Yasha's face.

"That was gonna be so smooth, Yash, you don't even know."

Yasha pushes a hand through Beau's hair again - gently, so she doesn't knock her the fuck over - and yeah, that smile is still the best sight ever. "It's the thought that counts," she agrees, and gods Beau can _smell her_ from here. She heard Yasha coming basically when she did - hot, very hot, magic is the fucking best - and she knows better than to think Yasha's particularly interested in another.

But if she's very good and Yasha's feeling generous, she might be allowed a few moments just to nuzzle her face in the heat of her and taste her.

She feels known when Yasha steps closer to let Beau lap at her cunt, and she thinks maybe they're both surprised when Beau swipes her tongue experimentally through her folds and over her clit and gets a soft moan and a shiver. Beau pulls back, couldn't hide her delight if she wanted to - and she doesn't.

"Can I?"

She waits patiently as Yasha takes mental stock of herself and looks back towards the running shower, lower lip between her teeth. "Okay," she says, and she smiles at the way Beau squirms with excitement and leans up to wrap her arms around the backs of Yasha's thighs.

"I'll be fast and gentle," Beau promises, and it's partially for Yasha and partially because she's not quite sure how long her legs can handle the strain.

It's so _good_ here in the salt and the heat of Yasha, Beau loves getting to do this. Normally she'd go so slow, get lost in it, really breathe Yasha in and work her up slowly, but her thighs are already shaking. Surprisingly, she realizes after a moment, so are Yasha's.

Oh shit. Beau hasn't even gotten to the good stuff with the tip of her tongue yet, and Yasha's already this far gone?

It hits her, then, exactly how much it must have affected Yasha to be put in charge of fucking her senseless while chained to the bed, and this - the fact that she's so ready to tip over into a second orgasm in the same thirty-minute span - tells Beau everything she needs to know. _Fuck_ , she loves being the one to get her worked up like this, who makes her feel as safe as she needs to release on these days where it lurks so close to the surface.

Beau loves that Yasha isn't quiet, not with this. Not for her. Few are the people who know the depth of her wit and her confidence, fewer still the ones that know what it took for her to gain them back after a long time without them. There aren't few people who can listen to her cries winding higher and higher and know them as a welcome and a promise - there's one person, and she's here having the time of her life with her tongue and her lips and the two fingers she slides in to push Yasha neatly over the edge. Yasha comes with a final kind of roar that liquifies Beau's stomach as she licks her through it until her own legs give out and she's forced to slump backwards, panting happily.

Beau wipes her mouth with the back of her hand and spends a moment feeling fairly pleased with herself as she watches Yasha catch her breath and just thinks _damn_ and _I hope she keeps me for a long, long time_ and not a whole lot else.

* * *

By the time they're showered and dried and Beau's floundering in a set of Yasha's pajamas - she wears the little sets with the collared shirts, it's ridiculously adorable - evening has only just truly set in and finds them curled up on the couch together with a plate of sandwiches, a blanket, and an old TV show playing on low volume so they can take turns guessing what the characters are saying with increasing nonsense. In the background, there's the hum and occasional metal clack of a dryer, and Beau's pretty sure she'll do just about anything to keep the world like this for them both.

She catches Yasha looking at her during commercials and grins, kind of shyly. "What?"

"Nothing much," Yasha says casually, which means it is. "Just that you're kind of everything to me. You know that, right?"

And Beau knows, right, they've talked about this - how they both knew something was there from the start, from the first time Jester had brought Yasha to their movie night, how they might have been official for just a few months but the foundation had been laid long before. Beau knows all of that. She hears it weigh Yasha's simple words, and again she feels known when Yasha's only response to the tears that well up in Beau's eyes is to set her plate to the side and pull Beau close against her chest.

"Sorry," Beau gasps reflexively into her shirt, and she doesn't tell Beau there's nothing to apologize for because she knows, too, what growth looks like on her and when to speak up and when to let it ride. She sniffs, feels her breath hot on her own face like this. "One day I'll have something cool to say back to you," she mumbles through tears. "But I love you too."

Yasha kisses the top of her head, a gesture that always makes Beau feel small and protected and so much more so in her arms like this. "You already say it back to me. A hundred ways, all the time, with everything you do." Her hand rubs up and down Beau's back. "You give me everything you are, and you give it so freely. That's so much more than enough."

Beau just nods, because she's pretty sure that the things she doesn't know how to say are what actually hold her together, that she's made up of weird esoteric bullshit and if she tries to fish out even one word the whole construct of whatever the fuck "Beau" is will collapse. It's more than enough, as Yasha would say, to sit here and listen to their clothes in the dryer and feel the warmth and the strength coming from the arms around her and the chest under her ear, and just breathe.

**Author's Note:**

> Oh and if you came in here to complain about trans characters, kink, or even Adam Lambert (understandable but no thanks) don't bother. Your comments will not be noted and will be immediately deleted, as they have been thus far on the other fics.


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